A Cracked Pot Mends Her Ways--Or Confessions of a Clod

We have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair....
--2 Corinthians 4:7-8 (NIV)--

The Clod and the Pebble

"Love seeketh not Itself to please,

Nor for itself hath any care;

But for another gives its ease,

And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair."

So sang a little Clod of Clay,

Trodden with the cattle's feet;

But a Pebble of the brook,

Warbled out these metres meet:

"Love seeketh only Self to please,

To bind another to its delight;

Joys in another's loss of ease,

And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite."

--William Blake, 1794--

Encouragement overtook despair for this blogger today, although my joy was tempered a little with some bad news about Micah. I just found out that he has a summer cold and got a boo-boo today from a stubborn door that wouldn't open the way he expected it to. Poor Micah! I hope this Grandma's meanness isn't finding its way to Florida from Illinois to bother you now.

The good news for me came from the specialist (neurosurgeon) we saw today. We had to drive about 90 miles from here to southeast Missouri and back again, but the peace of mind I feel now made the long trip worthwhile. He was impressed with the progress I am making and credits the chiropractor I am going to three times a week with helping me avoid surgery, at least for now (forever, I hope). The two docs think highly of each other and share a common bond. They both pray for their patients. Somehow, I knew that was the case, at least for the DC, when he started treating me two weeks ago. He came highly recommended by several people in town and won my favor by immediately ordering an MRI, something the new (to me) family doc I saw on July 3 did not think was necessary. Little setbacks lately seem to have worked favorably for me, though like a donkey--dare I say jackass--sometimes I kick against the goad.

My pots overflowing with herbs and trailing vines outside our apartment reveal a mixed-lot of textures and smell wonderful.

On Wednesday, I found this lovely little table and plant stand at a going-out-of-business sale in a florist's shop. I was on a mission to order funeral flowers (can't go there) and got sidetracked by the sale sign. I'm sad that the owners of the shop aren't doing very well in this sluggish economy. They did not have any fresh flowers so I visited a shop just down the street from them. I told the lady working there that we had moved back to the area from Florida, and she laughed. She said this area must be like the Bermuda Triangle. It seems to have supernatural powers to pull former residents back to itself. She and her husband have recently come back after living in Texas for several years. Another worker there who returned from making a delivery heard us talking and remarked that she was another one who got sucked back into town.

Before I headed home to the apartment, I picked up a few end-of-the-season, discounted plants at the local box store. I put a Heuchera and a Grosso lavender plant in self-watering, insulated pots so they should thrive until I can plant them in the ground, wherever it is that we end up living next year.

For the flower bed in front of the apartment, I did not spend much time or money and planted mostly annuals, knowing (hoping?) that our stay here should be only temporary. I need to extend that philosophy of waste-not/want-not to all aspects of my life.


I planted this feverfew earlier in the spring. Supposedly, crushing the leaves and/or flowers and smelling them can help relieve migraine headaches. Thankfully, I do not suffer from headaches very often.

The DC seemed pleased with the news I brought from the MD, but he was not really surprised. I should not have been either. I would be hard-pressed to find a better duo of docs anywhere, and I found them in the place I least expected--my own Bermuda Triangle--Southern Illinois/SEMO!